


Smoke and Mirrors

by billhaderthegator



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Battle of Hogwarts, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/M, Flashbacks, Good Slytherins, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mutual Pining, Pining, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Remus Lupin Lives, Remus Lupin Needs a Hug, Self-Harm, Slytherin, Teacher-Student Relationship, Werewolf Remus Lupin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:47:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29931576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/billhaderthegator/pseuds/billhaderthegator
Summary: Beverly Chambers is attending her 7th year at Hogwarts the year after the war has ended. Being at the school brings up far too many painful memories of the war, but she feels that she owes it to everyone that she couldn't save. Not to mention, her favorite (most handsome) professor of all time has been reinstated, so maybe she could stick around a little while longer.Or,The most fucked up fix-it fic you've ever read.
Relationships: Remus Lupin/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 1





	Smoke and Mirrors

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I'm not even sure if anyone's going to be reading this...  
> But regardless, here's a huge heads up. You can't miss it.  
> *TRIGGER WARNING*  
> This original character, Beverly Chambers, has severe PTSD, depression, and self esteem and self-harm issues. She's really just struggling to stay alive and forgive herself for not dying in the Battle of Hogwarts with everyone she loves.
> 
> Anyways, I refuse to believe that my baby Remus died, so he just didn't. Boom. End of story. He's reinstated as the DADA professor for Beverly's 7th year.
> 
> But let me be clear. I have no idea if or when I'll update this, and even if I had the slightest clue, this story is intended to burn slow. Lots of Angst and Hurt, and maybe if I actually keep up with my own fic for once, eventual comfort.
> 
> You have been warned.
> 
> Also, all characters and plots that are not obviously original belong to Rita Skeet- JK Rowling, sorry- yaddah yaddah yah...

Beverly Chambers blew the askew strands of black hair from her face with a single, elongated huff of regrettable breath as she dropped herself onto the seat of the back-most compartment of the Hogwarts Express. 

She really hadn’t wanted to come back this year, not after the battle. Not when she knew that instead of being met with the smiling faces of her beloved friends and classmates, she would only have the memory of the light fading from behind their eyes as they fell for good to the blood-stained ground of the battlefield- A battlefield that she had called home for six years, and one she would be forced to call home for another one, still.

Seventh years weren’t required to attend, Beverly knew that. In fact, she had thought deeply about that when considering her upcoming attendance. But when it came down to it, she had two choices: forget any hope of making up for everything wrong with her past by achieving a decent future and wallow in the already broken existence that had surrounded her since long before the war. Or attend her final year and attempt to respect the ones she had lost by making the most of the life that she, for some godforsaken reason, had been granted over them.

So she went. And now, she sat alone in the back-most compartment, remembering all those times in the years before where Beverly had looked up from her lap to see the excited faces of her classmates that were so eager to start the school year. 

But now, there was nothing. Well, nothing much. An empty bench opposite her, directly in front of a wall whose color she hadn’t remembered being so...dull. It was a faded yellow. A really dull, almost dirty, very pale yellow, which was especially odd, since she’d always remembered the compartment walls to be a very warm, welcoming, off-white color. She scoffed to herself at the irony.

Turning away, Beverly let her head fall against the window as she drew her knees up and hugged them to her chest. The train had started moving sometime during her self-pity, and she hadn’t noticed until she felt calmed by the scenery flying by and the gentle sway of the locomotive. 

She could close her eyes just for a minute. She could change into her robes in a couple of hours, she had plenty of time before they arrived. And she really hadn’t slept well the night before. Or any night since the battle, really. 

Adrift on her own thoughts, Beverly’s breath grew slow, and the tension that always clung to her newly-sunken features melted away. At least, until she woke up.

~~~~~~~~

“Firs’ years, follow me! Tha’s right, come alon’ now. Don’ be shy!”   
  
Beverly’s eyes shot open, and she desperately tried to comb her black tangles out of her face as she scrambled to look out the window. Outside, in all its glory and horror, stood Hogwarts Castle.

Beverly scrambled, reaching quickly for her wand and trying to find her robes. How could she have slept through the whole ride? It was nearly 12 hours! How could she be so careless?

She was desperately trying to wriggle out of her outrageously skinny muggle jeans, but her foot caught in the cuff and she fell, half-naked, to the compartment floor. She cursed herself, seeming to recall in that very moment that she was a witch, and waved her wand quickly so that her Slytherin robes found their way onto her body. Rising quickly and shoving her muggle clothes into her trunk, she left it on the train and ran out, waving her wand in one last attempt to make herself look presentable. 

Hagrid and the first years were already at the main gates, and McGonagall was ushering them hurriedly into the Entrance Hall. The rest of the students were spread about the grounds, making their way towards the gate, and she was sure that many were already inside and seated in the Great Hall. She could have jogged to catch up to some of the stragglers, at least, but Beverly hung back, walking slowly and deliberately away from anyone else.

It felt wrong to talk to people and make new friends, or laugh and enjoy the acquaintances she’d already had when her friends were gone. Ever since May, she had found that she spoke little more than necessary to anyone, and only when spoken to. But that was okay. She quite liked the quiet. 

When Beverly arrived at the gates for herself, she froze. Everyone else was already inside, and the sorting was likely to start any minute. Before she even entered the Entrance Hall, she could hear the roaring laughter and chatter from the Great Hall, the noise booming at her all at once, and she felt dizzy. Bile climbed up her throat, her face was flushed, and suddenly, she was thrown four months into the past, in the same exact spot.

_Lightning flashed and the rumble of thunder shortly followed._

_No, it wasn’t lightning, there was no storm. There was war._

_Streaks of magic, so many colors, ripped through the sky, and had it been under any other circumstances, it would have been breathtakingly beautiful. Beverly’s eyes were fixed on the clashing streaks of green and red and blue._

_Screaming. It was the screaming that tore her eyes away. Ten yards, give or take, to her left, someone was screaming. Beverly lunged to them, darted the distance until she was on her knees and a bloodied, frail body lay before her._

_She was so overwhelmed, she hadn’t realized until their bloody hand was on her cheek and their labored voice called her name that it was Abbigail._

_“Abby!” Beverly nearly screeched, recognition hitting her as she cast a protego around them. She looked around, panicked, but no one could have possibly heard them over the constant booming and crashing and screaming going on around them._

_Beverly turned back to her friend, whose head was now laid in her lap. “Abby,” she said again, much calmer than before, but still strained and rushed. “Abby, sit still, okay? I know it looks bad, but it’s just a lot of blood, okay?” Beverly was nodding frantically, tears streaming from her eyes, as if it was herself that she was trying to convince. “You’re gonna be alright. I’ll just cast a quick cleaning spell and get you to Madame Pomfrey, okay?”_

_Abby nodded, though it took visible effort as she winced through the subtle motion. Beverly muttered incantations under her breath and tried desperately to stop the blood gushing from Abbigail’s thigh, but as soon as the mess was cleared away, the wound bathed them both in her blood again._

_Abby was too weak to talk, and it was taking all of her energy to merely keep her eyes open at that point, but Beverly couldn’t stop the words flooding from her mouth any more than she could the life fading from Abby’s frame._

_“It’s going to be okay, Abby, I swear it to you. It’s not as bad as it looks, just smoke and mirrors is all. You know that, don’t you? Just smoke and mirrors. Everything’s alright underneath.” But as Beverly spoke the words, sobs intervening every third breath and eyes flooding a river down her face, even she knew it wasn’t true. “It’s going to be okay, Abby.”_

_And with the last of her energy, Abby managed to lift her hand to Beverly's face and offer a soft smile. “Bev,” she croaked, “I’m going to be okay. Just...just smoke and mirrors. Go. I’ll,” she grunted in pain. “Fine. I’m fine. You go. It’s just smoke and mirrors...just smoke and mirrors is all…” And Abby’s eyes fluttered closed._

Beverly had fallen to the ground, grief raking her body by the time the flashback had ended. It had been so vivid, like she was right back there with Abby, and Beverly’s eyes fell to the spot in the grass that Abby had taken her last breath. Her heart ached, her head pounded, she couldn’t do this. She had been so naïve to think she could. 

Scrambling to her feet, stuffing her wand in her robes pocket, Beverly ran fast from the entrance. Breath coming out fast and hard, it reminded her of how she’d darted around the battlefield, desperately searching for someone she could save, a life she could savage. She hadn’t found enough.

It wasn’t until Beverly reached the boundary of the ground, a few steps away from the Forbidden Forest, that she allowed herself to catch her breath. Nearly collapsing to the ground, Beverly wheezed for lack of air as she looked up at the castle, so large and looming in a way that she couldn’t believe she’d once found comforting.

Its walls stood sturdy and spoke stories of strength and survival. Each brick pushed directly in the correct position to provide a semblance of protection. But Hogwarts wasn’t fooling her anymore. It wasn’t a place of strength and support, as it so seemed. It was just smoke and mirrors.


End file.
